User blog comment:Redmight/Blackbane castle and the Island of Despair/@comment-2207385-20120115044104

To live on and dream is a given, every thought every struggle begins with a single dream, a single thought brought forth from the heart and soul. Yet every dream cannot be done, cannot be reached cannot exist, for in the end they are just dreams, an illusion given by ourselves to go on or simply be, but sometimes, even an illusion.................. can be true.

Dark and black, blurry and unknown was the sight of a single weasel, his neck chained as he simply walked to an execution stand as his head was covered with a black cowl. The chains tugged and led him to his unfortunate fate, the crowd cheering, cursing and simply loathing the existence of the beast, they wanted blood, and blood they would have. Single steps, barely moving as the weasel reached the middle of the stand, a fox cladded in black armor and an executioners attire glared into the beasts very being with hate, his huge axe gleaming under the lowering sun. the weasel's gaze was black and unknown, but his hearing it blasted with the accusation and loathing's of every beast, "MURDER, FIEND!!! SCUM!!! DIE ALREADY!!!" the weasel lowered his head in shame, knowing them all true, all ringing deep inside his mind, he gently kneeled and rested his head on the executioner's stand, ready to die.

On the front row Corbus's gaze was right in front of the poor weasel, he was being pushed and unable to really move thanks to the huge crowd demanding the death of the beast, all of them cursing, screaming and begging for a death, a wish about to be granted very soon.